


Show Me

by AuthorMAGrant



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Aged-Up Otabek Altin, Aged-Up Yuri Plisetsky, Domestic Fluff, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Otabek finally makes a move
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-04
Updated: 2017-09-04
Packaged: 2018-12-23 23:52:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12000537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AuthorMAGrant/pseuds/AuthorMAGrant
Summary: Written for Yuri on Ice Music Week, Day 1: 1960sSong: "Show Me" from 1964's My Fair LadyIn which Otabek Altin is sweetly clueless and Yuri decides to make his feelings obvious.





	Show Me

When Otabek and his coach parted ways two years after Victor Katsuki-Nikiforov and Yuuri Katsuki-Nikiforov retired, it was obvious that he would be moving to Saint Petersburg. Victor had called him a day after he told Yuri about the change and offered to be his new coach. Yuri called five minutes after he accepted and offered to let him share the apartment.

“You planned this out well,” Otabek commented, smiling to himself as he heard Yuuri shushing Victor in the background. “Are you at their place, or are they at yours?”

“It’s Wednesday night,” Yuri grumbled. “We always have dinner at their place on Wednesdays.”

Soon, those kinds of traditions became commonplace in Otabek’s life, too. It didn’t take much for his life and Yuri’s to mesh, from their division of chores to their monthly budget to the comfortable chaos of their apartment’s décor. He grew to love the big cat print pillows and blankets spread over their furniture, the mugs of half-drunk tea Yuri never remembered to take ten steps to the kitchen sink, the coatrack they hung their medals on, the stack of Yuri’s mother’s records piled next to the stack of Broadway musicals his mother had given him when he left Almaty.

Yuri was the first person who hadn’t laughed when they saw his record collection. Instead, he listened while Otabek told him stories of his mother playing the records in her kitchen, singing along with them as she cooked. He told Yuri about his mother teaching him to dance to the waltz from _The Sound of Music_ , which inspired his first junior free skate program. He told Yuri about his mother learning to better pronounce English from _My Fair Lady_ , and how it was her favorite musical of all time.

The next time he and Yuri video chatted with his family, Yuri and his mother spent an hour talking about whether Higgins or Freddy was better suited for Eliza. When Yuri left the room to shower so Otabek could finish up the call, his mother had given him a stern look and said, “Otabek Altin, if you don’t marry that boy, I will never forgive you.”

He stammered and stumbled through an excuse and hung up, then sat on the couch in a daze. Despite the time he and Yuri had been friends, despite their comfortable living arrangements now, he’d never once considered that they would ever be more than they already were. Sure, when he thought of the future, he imagined Yuri in it. How could he not? But romance had never crossed his mind. The longer he thought about it, the more confused he became.

How would dating Yuri, _marrying_ Yuri, be any different than what they already had? He’d grown up in a loving household, had witnessed the small acts of kindness between his father and mother. He brushed and plaited Yuri’s hair the same way his father did his mother’s. Yuri wrote him stupid notes on his lunch napkins the same way his mother had for his father (not that he would _ever_ tell Yuri that, or admit how happy it made him). When they sat on the couch together, curled up against each other as they read their books, Yuri would always remind him to take off his reading glasses before bed. Hell, they even shared the same bed, since it meant they could use the spare bedroom for Otabek’s DJing equipment and Yuri’s second closet. No, marrying Yuri or admitting how deep his feelings ran would do absolutely nothing to make their lives any different. Except …

Otabek pushed aside that traitorous thought before it could crawl back into the light of his consciousness. When he and Yuri had first become friends in Barcelona, Yuri was too young for Otabek to consider acting on any physical urges, even the most innocent kiss. As time went on and their friendship deepened, he continued to ignore that temptation until now, years later, he could pretend it didn’t exist.

Except it did. Except, it always had. But he’d rather have Yuri (who never acted affected by Otabek’s presence) remain in his life than risk screwing it all up with on a selfish whim. So that night when they curled up in bed, he didn’t tell Yuri his mother’s parting words and he didn’t kiss Yuri’s nose the way he wanted to.

Time passed and the season wore on in its regular calendar of pressure and stress and physical exhaustion. Yuri was still the skater to beat, but with Victor’s help, Otabek was starting to catch up. His jumps were tougher, cleaner, and Yuuri and Victor ran with his ability to interpret the music and act it out with his body. Soon he was stealing the podium’s second step from JJ and Phichit, sometimes even climbing higher than Yuri, who always scowled, but took him out to celebrate immediately after the medal ceremony.

He was happy. He was content.

“Hey, Beka.”

He glanced up from his seat in the stands, where he was reviewing film of his last free skate attempt. Yuri leaned against the wall, his normal sneer replaced with a nervous grimace.

“Yes, Yuri?”

“Can you record this for me? I promised to send it to your mother.”

He stood to retrieve the remote for the music player and returned to his seat where he prepared his phone. He gave Yuri a thumbs up to indicate he was ready. Yuri took to the center of the ice and nodded. Otabek pressed play and hit record.

Familiar strings began and Otabek’s heart lurched. In his head, he heard the words, Eliza’s desperate attempt to get Freddy to understand. In his heart, he heard Yuri’s message clear as day. Yuri’s skate was furious and graceful, a perfect synthesis of ballet delicacy and rock star passion. His body’s lithe movements entranced Otabek, smashed through the carefully maintained walls he’d erected, and left him adrift. When the track ended and the music faded, leaving Yuri standing back at center ice, chest heaving, eyes burning a hole into Otabek, he stopped recording and made his way down to the side of the rink.

Yuri skated to him with the leisurely arrogance that infuriated Victor, but Otabek knew was nothing more than cover for his lack of surety. “Well?” he asked, leaning against the wall. “What do you think?”

Well, Yuri had made it obvious he was sick of words. So Otabek kissed him instead.


End file.
